


on a clear morning

by irishcookie



Series: your partner in crime [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, based on set pics, slight spoilers for the punisher netflix series, you know the ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 23:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishcookie/pseuds/irishcookie
Summary: A quick Kastle drabble based on the set pics for the upcoming Punisher series --- Frank and Karen come face to face.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw the pictures. Chances are you did too. I couldn't resist throwing together a quick drabble. It barely scratches the surface of the conversation these two need to have but I just wanted to to celebrate the fact that there are new Kastle things headed our way!

She probably looks out of place — tailored jacket, brand new shoes (her one reward for the past few weeks of hell), hair neat in a bun. To get to the spot she has to pick her way over the ruined concrete of a building that has seen better days. She stumbles twice but never goes down completely. She ignores the multitude of graffiti (because there are only so many ways she can been told to fuck off before she takes it personally) and instead keeps her eyes on her goal — a park bench that affords her a decent view of the Hudson.

(she might look out of place but she doesn’t exactly _feel it_ among the ruins) 

She settles on the bench knowing she will have to scrub its imprint off her jacket later. Her bag is wedged in tight beside her and she takes a moment to just look at the city. _Her city_. For a brief moment she daydreams what it would be like to always see it like it is now — bright sun reflecting off the buildings, water so calm it looks like glass. Then she is thinking about word count and deadlines and what the hell to do about Matt Murdock. 

Apparently, she can’t hold onto peaceful for very long. 

She knows he is there before he says anything. There is just a subtle shift and he is back in her life. She turns her head slightly, eyes him for the first time since he stood tall on top of that building. He looks wild, hair longer than she remembers and face half hidden behind a beard. She wonders if that to protect him from onlookers who have memorized the face of Frank Castle (or if it is a symptom of something beneath the surface). It takes a beat or two to find her voice. “Frank.” 

“Ma’am.” 

He sounds the same. She hasn’t forgotten his voice (it helps that he talks to her in her dreams every now and then). 

“I didn’t think you would come.” 

“I didn’t think I would either,” Karen admits. She makes a face, nose curling up. “In fact, until I sat down I wasn’t entirely sure what I would do.” 

He sits without invitation. A little too close but she doesn’t tell him to move. Her eyes are on the water once more. “If you were smart, you wouldn’t have come.” 

She snorts a laugh. “Funny thing to say to someone when you need their help.” 

There is a silence and she wonders if he regrets calling her. _Probably_. He had told her once to stay far away from him. He must be desperate if he is the one pulling her back in. She turns her head and finds his face impossibly close. Frank has this way of looking at people — like he is breaking them down into their components just to be sure he knows how they tick. He is doing that to her now, no doubt wondering what kind of trouble she has danced around these past few months. She would like to tilt her chin up and proudly proclaim that she has done well but she’d be lying. She knows she is not comfortable unless she is digging through the metaphorical dirt trying to find that one thing that would expose just how damaged this city is. 

He rubs his hands on his legs and finally sits back, giving her a fraction more space. “Look, I gotta be smart about this…” He says and then squints, as if he is unhappy with his current line of defense. “I just…I need people I **trust**.” 

She sucks in a breath. She knows it is a big thing — Frank Castle’s trust. Not easily earned and only given once. Her hand falls on her bag and from its depths she pulls a file. “This is everything I have. It should help you put together the pieces and figure out where this asshole…” He makes a face and she wants to point out that he has killed people. “…is hiding. If you find him…” She shouldn’t tell him that it is a good thing because it almost feels like she is an accessory to murder somehow. She presses her lips together. “If you don’t, if that file somehow winds up where it shouldn’t be — I’m not going down.” 

There is something in his eyes, a flash of anger that reminds her he is a dangerous man. He leans in again, his voice gruff. “You think I’d let that happen?” 

She doesn’t answer. At least not directly. Instead she stand, her hands smoothing out her skirt. She loops an arm through her bag and stares at him for a moment. She realizes he doesn’t have a mark on him. She had gotten so used to seeing his skin marred. “Frank…” She begins and he is looking up at her like there is nothing else around them. There are at least a dozen things on the tip of her tongue. _Be careful. Watch your back. Stay safe. **Call me when this is over**_. Instead of letting any one of them actually come to life, she finds herself going another route instead. 

“Shave.”


End file.
